Amaranth Red
by sctwilightvampwolfgal
Summary: Cat Noir feels more like the flower or even an Amaranth plant than anything; it says the words that he no longer can say to her. *Inspired off of a prompt from the Roses Challenge by yellow 14 on the forum that he runs.*


Cat Noir felt Amaranth Red or rather his feelings felt that way. They'd started out tender and sweet, eager to grow and blossom under every interaction and every chance encounter, which happened a lot when your crush is also your superhero partner. Just, it started out sweet and overtime became almost bitter in disappointments and lost chances. No longer was it merely endearing, though it wasn't quite a hindrance to the woman that he loved, it was just unreturned and no longer could just be a sweet thing that she overlooked or said no to.

He stared across the rooftop at her. Patrol had dragged on long, and yet there she stood, looking across the skyline to whichever place held that soft look to her eyes. Cat Noir wasn't sure if she saw someone though the street was quiet or if her eyes had wandered to someone dear to her, a beloved, perhaps. He took a deep breath yet found himself moving towards her.

"Do you know what flowers mean, M'Lady?" It was a recent obsession of his as he'd call it. Over the years as both Cat Noir and Adrien, he'd received many flowers and got curious. He'd been studying the meanings of the colors and the types of flowers and the amount. It was so fascinating, and it led to him to understand when he'd received yellow roses from a good friend of his that she wasn't declaring undying love but friendship. Adrien imagined that that was not an easy choice for Kagami, but he'd been sure to get her yellow roses in return about a week later, which had involved a long, difficult talk with Gorilla, who mostly gave him a surprised look rather than spoke a whole lot. Still, Adrien had dreaded the talk and all of the explanations he had needed to give.

He wondered if Ladybug would mind the type of roses that define his feelings for her or if she would even understand the gesture.

"Not really, Cat." She shifted with a sigh and really looked at him, the kind of stare that was rare from her but made him always feel paper thin and see through every time that she gave it to him.

"Okay." Cat murmured, trying not to eternally hide away. It was okay that his best friend and crush could read him so well, even if she didn't return his feelings. "I wanted to give you Amaranth Roses." It's a statement and not a question. There's no action involved in it either.

"You aren't confessing your love again with that this time?" She looked at him, and he wondered what she saw in his eyes.

"No. It's something for how many years I've known you." He doesn't add and 'loved you,' because he knows that it won't be well received. She takes his flirting in stride, and so he doesn't really add anything else to it anymore. She loves someone else anyway.

"Is it really?" Ladybug looks surprised. "Should I get you them instead?"

"It doesn't work that way." He mutters, knowing that that would kill him to receive those, knowing what they mean and that she does not mean those words. "You'd do better to give me yellow roses."

"Why not the amaranth ones?" Ladybug asks, and Cat Noir isn't quite sure how to answer her without either making her upset or sad or feel guilty or just worn out.

"I like yellow better." He says instead of the full meaning. And perhaps, he does. It's the only color of roses that anyone ever seems to give him once they know him. Fangirls give him red, but it doesn't mean nearly enough from a stranger. Sometimes, he thinks that he's unlovable even though he pushes that out of his mind resolutely, like if the girls knew him they wouldn't love him just like Ladybug doesn't love him.

"Yellow." She looks at him. "It matches your hair."

Cat Noir can't help but chuckle then. "Of course, it does." He shrugs, and he wonders if Ladybug ever would learn just what these colors meant.

"I thought red roses were romantic." She finally says.

"It depends on the shade of red." He answers. "Some aren't nearly as romantic as others." He doesn't say that all of them are romantic in some way, unless they are wilted, but he feels like he shouldn't breach that gap, especially like this.

"Oh." She looks across the city. "I know a boy, would he like roses?"

"Is he the romantic sort?" Cat Noir asks as that bitter sting seems to swirl in his stomach; he swears that he can almost taste it: bitter, leaving him near cold.

"I don't know." She says finally.

"Then, you'll have to see." Cat Noir answers, sticking true and loyal to the lady that his heart has long been tender for. "I'm a romantic boy, if you're wondering." He knows that she knows that he's probably the most romantic out of the two of them. Though he imagines that Ladybug as serious as she can be can probably out romance him any day; she just has to want to.

"Thank you, Cat." She looks at him with that tender smile that always gives his heart hope that he wishes it wouldn't latch on to, "You're one of my best friends."

That hurts in a way that he doesn't let show. Yes, Amaranth Red Roses would be perfect for her; they say what he's no longer ready to admit.


End file.
